


Око за Око—Eye for an Eye

by Slovenskych



Series: Diamond in the Rough [2]
Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Also Lithuania dealing with all his exes, Angst, Cold War, Drama, Enemies to Friends, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Genocide, Historical Hetalia, Holocaust, Human OC - Freeform, Mongolia OC, Morally grey main character, Multi, Natalia is a badass, Romance, Sexual Assault, Smoking, Soviet Union, Spies, Tragedy, Turkmenistan OC, WWII, maybe some smut, really I'm just here to tie the characters into moral pretzels
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-31
Updated: 2020-12-08
Packaged: 2021-03-09 04:21:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,007
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27197749
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Slovenskych/pseuds/Slovenskych
Summary: Sequel to "Diamond in the Rough."  On his way to escape to West Germany, Prussia is captured by a high-profile MGB agent. Back in WWII, Prussia's disappearance leaves Belarus at the mercy of the Nazi soldiers. After the war she recovers in Moscow, but is forced to choose between family and doing the right thing. Belarus returns in 1953 with dubious allegiances, a secret plot, and a detective hot on her trail. Can the other nations stop her before it's too late? Or should they?
Relationships: Belarus & Poland (Hetalia), Belarus/Lithuania (Hetalia), Belarus/Prussia (Hetalia), Lithuania/Poland (Hetalia), Lithuania/Russia (Hetalia), Poland & Russia (Hetalia)
Series: Diamond in the Rough [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1986484
Comments: 9
Kudos: 15





	1. Part I: Capture

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It is the first day of 1953. Since the end of WWII, Russia had locked Prussia in the dungeon for seven years. Most nations believed him to be dead, but through a sudden turn of events, the Baltics freed him from the dungeon and helped him to escape. He and a young Prussian named Diedrich have traveled from Moscow all the way to Berlin, and are now about to cross the border into West Germany.

Berlin was the living memory of a war that everyone wanted to forget.

Tucked in the alleyways were stacks of rubble, once beautiful architecture reduced to chunks of cement, wooden beams, and dust. Even the buildings still standing were peppered with bullet holes, several windows blown out and cracks spidering up the walls. On the occasional street corner workers cleared away the rubble with trucks and shovels, most of them women. Lines of people waiting to receive their rations wound outside buildings and onto the streets, rubbing their hands together in the frigid air. Military guards stood at almost every corner, each sporting a rifle and a polished uniform. Some were French, British, American—the rest Soviet. Not a single tree grew in the city because they had all been used for firewood.

Berlin was merely a fractured shadow of the magnificent city it had once been. But to Gilbert Beilschmidt, it was the most beautiful thing he had seen in years.

He soaked in every bit of it as he walked down the streets—people bustling to work, children laughing and chasing each other through the park. Groups of men stood and talked while they lit up a cigarette, and a young boy played the violin for tips. The tantalizing scent of beer floated from the doors of the local Biergartens, causing Gilbert's mouth to water. He had dragged Diedrich into almost every single one, until at last the young Prussian had to explain to Gilbert that they didn't have enough money, and that hanging around Biergartens was an easy way to get caught.

But what struck Gilbert the most about East Germany was the strange energy he felt, the swell of pride and identity he found when he looked at the people around him. For the first time in seven years, the people that represented him had names and faces. They had voices and laughter and hats and cigarettes. They were _real_ , and the emotion that hit him when he met his first East German was so powerful that Gilbert had broken down and wept.

Now, he was standing in the center of Berlin Ostbahnhof. Gilbert stared at the train coaches, hardly able to believe how simple it was. All he had to do was step onto a coach, and the train would whisk him away to the West. No more Russian, no more dungeons or whips, no more having to watch his back every second to make sure they weren't being followed. He would be _free._

 _And I'll get to see Luddy again,_ Gilbert thought, his lips spreading into a grin. _I can't wait to see the look on his face!_

A pair of fingers snapped in front of his eyes. "Gilbert! Are you even listening to me?"

He blinked to see the impatient glare of a young man with bright golden eyes. "What?"

Diedrich groaned. "Gilbert, you have to pay attention, this is important! Just because we've gotten this far, doesn't mean we're safe."

Gilbert rolled his eyes. "Ja, ja, so what were you saying?"

"I said our train leaves from the second platform. I'm on coach D, you're on coach M. Here's your ticket." Diedrich handed Gilbert his boarding ticket, and he flicked his eyes over the seating number. "We'll meet at your coach when we get to the station in Bonn. Agreed?"

"Agreed."

Diedrich gave a sharp nod and exhaled a breath. "Right. Well, this is it."

Gilbert flashed a smile. "Thanks for everything, Diedrich."

"Just doing my job."

Gilbert laughed, then slipped an envelope out of his breast pocket. "Here, I want you to have this."

Diedrich leaned forward and tilted his head, eyes widening at the words inscribed on the envelope: _To my little brother._

"Just in case something happens to me," Gilbert said in a low voice. "Don't come back, understand? Don't try to find me, or save me. Just _get this to Ludwig—_ we have a place in Frankfurt, try contacting government officials. It'll be hard to get to him without an appointment, but you'll manage."

Diedrich took the letter and tucked it safely in his briefcase, his eyes somber. "I hope I won't have to."

"Me neither."

The two friends looked at each other for a moment, then Diedrich held out a hand. "Well, good luck to you, Prussia." Gilbert took it, then pulled in his friend to give him a firm embrace.

"You too, kid. Keep out of trouble."

Crimson eyes met gold. A curt nod, a smile, and they turned and went their separate ways.

A mixture of anticipation and nervousness fluttered in Gilbert's chest as he made his way to his coach. This was it—the moment he had been waiting for, he was _finally_ going to see Ludwig! His legs were trembling with excitement, and he practically leapt onto the coach, eyes scanning the numbers for his compartment. When he reached it, he slid open the door and took a glance inside.

Three of the four seats were taken—there was a woman staring out the window so that Gilbert couldn't see her face, and two middle-aged men buried in the East German newspapers. One of them glanced up and he shared a polite nod.

"Good morning," Gilbert said, but the man only huffed and flicked his eyes back to his paper.

 _Asshole,_ Gilbert grumbled to himself, reaching up to slide his suitcase onto the shelf above the vacant seat. He closed the door behind him and stepped over the second man to take his place by the window. Gilbert sank into his seat and watched the faces of his people as they passed, clenching his hands in his lap and thinking about what he might say to Ludwig when they met.

_Hey, Bruder, just thought I'd stop by to share a beer. You got a minute?_

"Guten Tag, Preussen."

For a strange moment Gilbert thought it was Ludwig speaking, until he registered that the voice had been female. His eyes snapped to the woman sitting across from him. Her face was still hidden by the hood of her cloak, head bowed into her lap. Gilbert's blood ran cold when he realized she had used his nation name.

"Who are you?" he demanded.

"You do not recognize my voice?" She spoke this time in English, accent thick and clearly recognizable as Russian. Gilbert's fingers clenched around his seat, eyes darting to the other men in the compartment. He noticed now how they sat unusually straight as they continued to read their newspapers.

"I said, _who are you?"_ he pressed, something in the back of his head telling him that this was going very wrong.

The woman snorted. "How silly of me. You did not remember me seven years ago; why should you remember me now?"

Gilbert's eyes widened. _Seven years... Mein Gott, who is this woman?_ He rose from his seat but was cut off by her cold voice,

"I would not do that if I were you."

Gilbert glanced to the two men. Still reading. "Why not?" he demanded.

"Sit," she said, and Gilbert lunged for the door.

The two men leapt up in an instant, both of them overpowering Gilbert before he could take another step. One man twisted his hand behind his back, and he felt the cool metal of handcuffs touch his skin. Gilbert shrieked a stream of insults in Russian. A giant hand closed around his head and bashed it against the compartment wall so that stars spun before his eyes.

"You know Russian?" the woman said, in her own tongue. The language was like nails scraping on a chalkboard, sending a flash of horrid memories through Gilbert's head. "I am impressed; I thought you were too much of an idiot to learn it."

 _"Wer bist du!?"_ Gilbert shrieked, anger and confusion raging through his veins like fire.

"Turn him around," she commanded, and the men forced Gilbert away from the compartment wall to face her. She slowly stood and reached up with delicate hands to lower the hood.

Gilbert was shocked to see that she was very young, perhaps in her early twenties. And not just that, she was beautiful. Silver-white hair cascaded around her thin shoulders in a milky waterfall, her skin flawless porcelain. Her lips were a cherry red, high cheek bones blushed a soft pink. But most stunning of all were her eyes—a deep midnight blue, so cold and sharp that they sliced into him like daggers. Her expression was eerily blank, although he could sense a carefully contained hatred burning inside of her.

Gilbert narrowed his eyes. She looked strangely familiar…

"You do not recognize me," she stated flatly. Gilbert shook his head. For a moment he saw a flash of hurt and anger flare up in her eyes. She turned to face the window. "So be it. Take him away."

"NEIN!" he shrieked, trying uselessly to throw the two men off of him, who he now knew had to be MGB agents. A cloth was placed over his nose and mouth, and Gilbert's brain began to grow fuzzy. He struggled and kicked, tears of anger springing from his eyes as the world faded into blackness.

_Bruder… Bruder, nein…_

Then his legs gave way, and he was vaguely aware of his head slamming onto something before the world winked away in a white flash.

* * *

Cover by [Madam_Lotus](https://twitter.com/Madam_Lotus/status/1277534880780468224)

* * *

HISTORY NOTES

Berlin suffered heavily from British and American airstrikes during WWII. Almost eighty percent of its historical buildings were completely destroyed by bombs, and it took years before the city was finally reconstructed. The city was also under heavy control from the British, French, American, and Soviet military.

The Berlin Wall did NOT exist at this time. East and West Germans lived and worked together in Berlin, but it was deep within the borders of the Eastern Block. It still took a train ride to get to the West from there.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome back, my lovely readers! This story is the sequel to my fanfiction "[Diamond in the Rough](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26365636/chapters/64216498)." I am reposting "Око за Око" from FFN.net to fix some typos. There are currently 11 chapters written, and I will post each one on AO3 as I edit them. (To read the original posting of OZO, [click here](https://www.fanfiction.net/s/10994052/1/O%D0%BA%D0%BE-%D0%B7%D0%B0-O%D0%BA%D0%BE-Eye-for-an-Eye).) Once I have finished editing the current chapters, I will publish the ongoing chapters both on AO3 and on FFN.net as I write them. However I can't promise when or how often these updates will be ready, as I am still in the early drafting stages of those chapters. 
> 
> For those of you who have not read "Diamond in the Rough," I recommend that you do so in order for this story to make more sense. There will be a ton of backstory information from DITR and my other stories that I will expect readers to know. I'll try to make recommendations for what to read in the notes, but the most important one is for you to have read DITR first. 
> 
> Thanks as always to Madam_Lotus for this awesome cover! Just as a note, I did not use a beta reader for chapters 1-11, but I may be using one for chapters after that. 
> 
> To all my DITR readers... welcome back! I hope you like this sequel. :)


	2. Princess

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DISCLAIMER: The next three chapters include graphic depictions of genocide. Please be aware that disturbing images and racist ideologies will be portrayed in these chapters. I do not in any way condone these beliefs or behaviors, but wish to teach about them so the atrocities will never be repeated. Thank you.

**Eleven Years Earlier**

_Dear Princess,_

_Unfortunately this will be my last letter; from now on our Awesome Army's plans are top secret. I'm not supposed to tell you this but you're a smart girl, I'm sure you knew anyway: I'm coming to Minsk. I can't tell you when, or how, but know that the next time we see each other will be in battle. If for some freak reason you meet my men first, say "Führen Sie mich zu Gilbert Beilschmidt." You gotta promise me you'll say that, alright? Shit can happen out there. Don't let it._

_I don't have much time to write, so I will leave you with this: I know you will fight to the death for your brother and there is nothing I could say to change that. So, good luck Princess. Show those bastards how it's done. And when we meet again, I want you to know that I love you just as much as I did twenty-three years ago, and that's never going to change._

_Until we meet again,  
_ _Gilbert_

"Sestra, what are you reading?"

Natalia jumped and folded the letter in her hands. Her eyes darted up to meet the curious gaze of Ivan standing at her doorway. It was unusual for him to pry—perhaps he had caught her smiling. "It is a letter from my boss."

"And what did he say?"

She looked down into her lap, rolling a corner of the letter between her thumb and forefinger. "He asks if you are preparing for war."

A deep chuckle filled the room. "Sestra, the Germans are not idiotic enough to try and invade the great Soviet Union. Surely you remember what happened the last time?"

Natalia’s mind began to wander. Even after all these years she could still hear that scratchy voice at her ear, could feel warm breath tickling her neck…

_"Nat… I have something to tell you."_

_She leaned forward to look at his face, smooth and pale blue in the moonlight. "What is it?"_

_Gilbert pulled at the threads in the comforter, his eyes refusing to meet hers. "I'm…Well—Luddy and I we're… losing the war."_

_Natalia’s heart grew heavy in her chest. Even so, her lips pulled into a sly smile. "I told you World Domination is a child's dream, did I not?"_

_Gilbert leaned back, his hands behind his head so that his muscles threw soft shadows across his arms. "Ja, ja, you don't have to rub it in my face. But I'm going to come back for you. The next time we get a chance..." His eyes searched the ceiling, lashes a silver cream wisp. Natalia could almost see the next World Domination scheme playing out in his head._

_She scoffed. "What is this to you, some sort of game?"_

_Cool fingers laced with hers and he brought up her hand to place a kiss on the back of her knuckles. His lust for power tingled on her skin. She could taste it in the air—it smelled like wet coins, silk, sex. A shiver coursed through her as his blood-red eyes flicked up to meet hers, lips flashing into a glowing white grin._

_"This is war, Princess. It the best goddamn game ever invented."_

"…Sestra?"

Natalia blinked. She looked up to send Ivan a soft smile, her fingers tracing the ink lines where Gilbert had signed his name at the bottom of the letter. "Da, brother. I remember."

* * *

**June 28, 1941**

_BOOM!_

The ground shook, an explosion of dust shooting up her lungs and nose. Natalia's helmet banged against the cement wall, slamming her teeth together against the grit in her mouth. A ringing sound screeched through her skull, the cracks in the cement washing into a grey blur. She flattened herself to the ground as another shell hit the building; this time sounding like distant thunder.

Natalia reached up to touch her ears. She pulled her hand back to see dark blood shimmering on the tips of her mud-caked fingers. She glanced to her right, then quickly looked away. Her fellow soldier had been hit by the blast, his arm unhinged at the elbow, dark eyes staring unblinking at the ceiling. His lips were parted in a surprised expression, as if he was trying to say something but the words never tumbled out.

Natalia shakily stood and pressed herself against the wall. The earth shook with the occasional explosions of German tank bombardment tearing into the buildings of her beloved city. Smoke and dust billowed upwards as figures of Soviet soldiers scrambled through the ruins.

Natalia leaned her head on the brick and swallowed something that tasted like metal. She tightened her grip around her rifle. _Three bullets_ , she thought, curling her lip in disgust. _Three goddamn bullets. Is this what you call "support," brother?_

She glanced down at the dead soldier, eyes resting on his rifle. She knelt down beside him, sliding out the cartridge and emptying a single brass bullet into her hand. She slid open the cartridge, smearing blood onto the bullet as she stuffed it in. She darted to the wall again, peering around the chunks of mauled cement into the smoking streets.

Natalia's body was tense, eyes peeled for that unmistakable white head of hair, cackling laugh, and a pair of blood-red eyes. It had been almost a week since the Germans invaded Belarus, and she was surprised to have not seen any sign of Gilbert. Usually nations found each other easily in battle. Was he teasing her? Natalia's fingers curled around the trigger, her eyes narrowed and picking through the haze to try and make out any movement.

She saw it—a flash of a uniform, darting behind a building. She fired, then leapt over the rocks and into the streets. She pressed herself up against the wall. _Three bullets. Three goddamn bullets._ She swung into sight, aimed, and fired.

Natalia wasn't sure exactly what happened next—everything lit up around her, a blinding white, and she felt as if strings were pulling her into the air. She heard a scream inside of her head, only felt a sense of spiraling into nothingness. She tasted blood, thick and rusty in her mouth. She blinked open her eyes to be met with the washed blur of someone's face. She tried to read his lips but she didn't recognize the language.

"Eng—Englisch—Bitte…" She bent over and spat out blood onto the ground. Something knocked off her helmet, rattling her head even more. Natalia heard a gasp.

"Es ist eine Frau!"

She looked up to see the astonished faces of several German soldiers. They had kicked off her helmet, and were clearly shocked to see that this Soviet soldier was a woman. She heaved herself off of the ground, her elbows trembling. Her voice scratched against her throat as she croaked, "Führen Sie mich zu Gilbert Beilschmidt."

The soldiers only stared at her with blank faces.

"Gilbert _Beilschmidt,"_ she repeated, trying to enunciate.

The soldiers muttered to each other, then one stepped forward and pointed a gun to her face. "RAUS!"

Natalia struggled to her feet, swaying a little. Her eyes swept the ground to try and find her rifle, but it was nowhere in sight. She shot the soldier a dark look before following his lead through the smoke and to the German camp.

The air was choked with dust and the smell of burned flesh. Every now and then Natalia stopped to look back at her burning city, only to be prodded in the back with the gun and told to move on. She couldn't help but feel a cold betrayal settle in her stomach. Didn't Ivan say he would protect her? Isn't that why they had burned every last bit of food, so that they would defeat the Germans? Thousands of her people had abandoned their homes and fled East, and all for what?

As they entered the German lines, Natalia saw groups of Soviet POWs sitting on the ground. Some were Russian, others Belarusian—many of them had darker complexions, recruits from Siberia and Kazakhstan. All of them, fighting for the Soviet Union… for _her._ One of the soldiers locked eyes with her. She quickly turned away.

Natalia was led to the entrance of a war tent, where the soldier barked an order at her before disappearing inside. A few minutes later, an officer emerged. Based on his uniform insignia, Natalia guessed him to be a Colonel. His hair was gold and slicked back, blue eyes as sharp as the sky. He was much too thin to be Germany, but the resemblance was striking. Perhaps that ridiculous hair-gel look was becoming popular. The Colonel stepped out with his hands folded neatly behind his back, cold eyes looking Natalia up and down.

"Miss Belarus, is that correct?"

Natalia was relieved to at last be treated with some respect. "Yes, and I would like to speak with Gilbert Beilschmidt."

"I do not know of anyone by that name."

Natalia stared at him in disbelief. "I don't understand. Surely if you know about nations then—"

"That will be enough questions."

"As a nation representative I have the right to speak with another representation about the terms of this inva—" _SLAP!_ Natalia's head reeled to the side and her cheek stung.

"You Slavs," the Colonel said in a low voice, "Do not know when to shut up."

Anger flared through her; she had never been treated with such disrespect on the battlefield. She straightened and met his gaze with flaming eyes. "All I ask," she said slowly, "Is that I speak with Gilbert Beilschmidt."

"There is no Gilbert Beilschmidt."

Natalia stared at him for a moment before it dawned on her. "You're lying," she whispered. The Colonel looked away. "You're LYING!" She moved to step forward but a strong pair of hands clamped around her wrists. She tried to twist away, her boots digging into the mud. "WHERE is he!?"

The Colonel gave a sharp order and pain exploded in her head. Natalia's knees buckled and she collapsed onto the ground. She heard the swift _click_ of a pistol being cocked, and a cool metal ring was pressed to her temple.

"If you mention that name again, I will shoot you."

Natalia's mind swam with confusion. Why would the Nazis want to keep Gilbert's existence a secret? "What do you want," she snarled.

"We are in need of your… _condition_." The gun twisted against her scalp. "If my information is correct, you're not even human. Worse than Undesirable—you're just a freak of nature. A _thing."_ The Colonel glanced up to the soldier holding her down, his lips curling into a smile. "Pretty bitch though, isn't she?"

"What do you _want,"_ she pressed through clenched teeth. Her hands drifted to her leg straps where two knives lay hidden in their sheaths. If only he didn't have that damn _gun_ pointed to her skull…

As if on cue, the Colonel withdrew the pistol and took a step back. "We will hold you captive until the Einsatzgruppen arrives, then you will give them the location of every Jew in the city."

Natalia curled a lip. "And what makes you think I would do such a thing?" Her eyes followed his boots as he paced in front of her, noticing how the slick leather shone even in overcast.

"We are going to build a ghetto for your Jews to live in. That way they have a place to exchange culture, become closer as a community. It will be a good addition to your capital."

Natalia could hardly believe what she was hearing. She knew the Nazis were racist, but to force families out of their homes? Something stirred in her gut; this was wrong. The question screamed through her mind with so much urgency that she had to bite her tongue to keep from asking it: _Where is Gilbert!?_ Instead she clenched her jaw, fingers sliding up her thighs to brush the leather straps of her knives.

"I will never betray my people. Use those rotting sponges you call brains and find them _yourselves."_

The Colonel whirled around, "WAS HAST DU GESAGT, DU SCHLAMPE?"

It was exactly what Natalia needed. With one fluid motion she slipped out the knives and lunged forward. The blades were so sharp that digging into flesh felt like cutting through air. She locked eyes with the Colonel as his widened in shock. She sheathed knives and slipped the gun out of the Colonel's holster, then whipped around and shot the soldier between the eyes.

Natalia ran.

Air burned through her lungs and her braid slapped against her back. She could hear someone screaming orders behind her, the thuds of combat boots nearing, the jangle of military equipment as more soldiers joined the chase. She headed in the direction of a VW Kübelwagen; through the dusty windows she could see the outline of a soldier's helmet. She skidded to a halt and flung the driver door open, pointing the gun to the German's face.

"Drive, verstanden?"

The soldier gaped at her, but she ignored him and climbed in just as bullets began to _ping_ on the metal. Natalia slammed the door shut and pressed the Luger to the soldier's neck. "GO!" The VW roared to life and lurched forward, swerving between tents and tanks and running soldiers.

"Wo!?" the soldier shouted over the engine.

"Away from here!"

Bullets pinged against the doors in rapid fire. The soldier let out a yelp, slamming on the gas as he tried to navigate out of the camp. Natalia raced to come up with a plan. If she returned to the city, it was only a matter of time before the Nazis caught her again. Perhaps if she managed to drive far enough into the countryside she could slip away, maybe disguise herself as a German officer until she found Gilbert.

An explosion rattled her ear drums and the VW jerked to the side.

"Der Reifen!" the soldier shouted, struggling to gain control. Natalia risked glancing back to see another VW speeding towards them, soldiers squinting down their barrels as they opened fire.

Another explosion; this time the soldier lost control and the VW veered sideways.

"Go, GO!" Natalia screamed, digging the gun into his neck.

The soldier's face was slick with sweat, his voice cracking in panic. "Ich kann nicht! Die Reifen—"

There was a deafening _SCREECH_ as the VW swung to the side, the entire vehicle jolting up and down so that Natalia hit her head on the roof. _They've shot out the tires._ She cursed, leaning over and grabbing the wheel.

"Was machst du da?! Verrückt schlampe!"

She ignored the soldier's protests, cranking the wheel so that the VW headed straight for the trees. The soldier shouted insults, fighting for control. She elbowed him out of the way, eyes narrowed as she slammed her boot over his on the gas pedal.

Everything went white.

She lurched forwards, pain exploding in her forehead. Natalia's face felt hot, she tasted gasoline and blood. Her head rang, but she forced her eyes open. The smoke was so thick she could barely make out the slumped form of the soldier against the wheel. Natalia pulled her legs out of the crunched metal with a groan. Her hands trembled as she opened the door, stumbling into the forest.

Her breathing was wet and gargled, every step sent her bones jarring. An engine rumbled to a halt behind her, leaves crunching as soldiers neared. The voices were getting nearer, gunshots ripped through the air. Leaves twitched and she felt tree bark chip and fly, rocks skipped to life in front of her. Still she ran, her lungs rattling, braid thumping against her back as she wove through the trees.

She lost her footing and the ground rushed up to meet her; she let out a cry as glass punctured her palms. Just as she made to scramble to her feet, something slammed into her back. Natalia groaned—she could feel her heartbeat hammering against her compressed ribcage, leaves and dirt pressed into her mouth.

Someone hoisted her up by her shoulders, slamming her into a tree. Rough hands padded her arms, legs, waist. Natalia bared her teeth and spat, trying to twist herself free. "Bastards!" she shrieked as she felt the knives being ripped from her thighs. "Do you know who I am!?"

The soldiers didn't reply. A gun pressed to her back and rough hands forced her to walk. Natalia refused to look any of them in the eye; instead she kept her gaze trained on her knives. They had been a gift from Ivan—handcrafted, the sharpest knives in all of Russia. One of the soldiers made the mistake of glancing in her direction.

"If you do not return those knives to me, not even _God_ can save you," she hissed in her own language. He paled and looked away, quickening his pace.

It wasn't long before the VW came into sight. The soldiers opened the doors, pressing the pistol to her back. Natalia glared at them as she ducked into the seat. The soldier climbed in after her, the barrel of the Luger still pointed at her head. The engine rumbled to a start and she watched the forest fade behind the dusty window.

Natalia cursed under her breath. So close… she had been so _close!_ She looked down to see that her hands were shimmering with blood, pieces of glass nestled into the tender skin. She picked out the shards and dropped them between her legs, causing a soft _clink_ as they hit the floor.

"Where are you taking me?"

It was not the soldier with the gun who replied, but the driver. "To the city."

Natalia sent him a dark look in the rearview. "If you think I can be so easily persuaded to force innocent civilians out of their homes, you are mistaken."

"They're not innocent. They're Jews."

The calmness of his voice shocked her. How could a simple religion mark someone as criminal? Did all of the Nazis think this way? "I see no crimes," she said, flicking a shard of bloodied glass at the back of the driver's seat.

"Then you have not been looking."

Natalia snorted; the logic of racism had always defied her. She turned her attention to the windows, where the grass stretched out in rolling hills. She leaned forward to look at the smoke billowing up from the remaining buildings in Minsk. Gunshots and shells echoed across the countryside. Natalia’s chest ached.

_Gilbert, where are you?_

She had been expecting the Nazis to drive her into the city itself, but instead the VW pulled to the side of the road a few kilometers away. Natalia scanned the area for any sign of prisoner groups—it appeared to be empty. The driver shut of the engine and stepped out, slamming the door behind him. He barked some orders in German, then several more soldiers ran to the door where she sat. Firm hands grasped her by the arms and shoulders, forcing her out of the VW.

"I can get out _myself,"_ she snarled, trying to twist away, but their grips only tightened. Natalia inwardly moaned—of course security would be high after she'd escaped from two armed officers.

The soldiers led her to the side of the road. A soft breeze played through the loose strands in her braid, dirt-caked bangs brushing her forehead. At first she was confused at the absence of any kind of encampment, until she heard a cry in Russian:

"NO! Please, sir, I beg you, he is only a child!"

Natalia tensed. She caught sight of several figures nearing them from the direction of the city, each led by gunpoint. As the voices became clearer, she recognized them as a family. There was a mother, a father, an older sister and a young boy who looked about five years old.

"What is the meaning of this?" she demanded, wincing at the distressed cries of the mother.

The driver stepped in front of her, his hands behind his back. "We have orders to gain your cooperation, Miss Belarus. You must understand what is at stake for you and your people."

"PLEASE!" the woman sobbed, tears running down her face. "Please, you can take us, just let the children go!"

"Mamaaa!" the boy wailed.

Natalia's eyes darted from one teary face to the next. "They are civilians! They have done nothing wrong!"

"They are Jews," the soldier said calmly. "That is enough."

She stared at him in horror. _No…_

The soldiers leading the family pushed each of them down onto their knees. The woman was crying hysterically by now, her wails shooting raw fear through Natalia's veins. The girl's shoulders shook with silent sobs, while the father stared mournfully at the ground. Tears rolled down the boy's cheeks but Natalia knew they were tears of confusion. He was much too young to understand what was about to happen to his family.

"ZIELEN!" The soldiers raised their weapons.

"NO!" Natalia fought against the soldiers holding her back. "What is it, what do you want me to do?"

"FEUER!"

A gunshot rang through the air and the woman screamed. The man slumped forward into the grass.

"We've already told you," the soldier said, not bothering to look back at Natalia. "You will locate the Jews."

"That is ridiculous, you can't possibly expect me to—"

"ZIELEN!"

"They're my _people!"_

"FEUER!"

Another gunshot—this time the girl fell over. The woman pressed her face into the ground, her entire body shaking with sobs, this time speaking Yiddish as she had lost all hope of dissuading the soldiers. "Tanyaaa!" she wailed. "Oh, God! Oh, God, please help us!" The boy looked at the slumped body of his sister, eyes wide with fear. Natalia was so shocked that she didn't know what to do. She needed _help,_ she needed help from—

_"Gilbert?"_

_"Ja?"_

_She leaned sideways, resting her head on his shoulder and ghosting her hands over the smooth muscles in his arm. She felt him relax at her touch. "What will the world be like, when you have it all?"_

_"When I have it all?" Gilbert's lips curled into a smirk. "You mean when we win."_

_"Yes." She tilted her head up so that her breath was hot against his ear, her voice thick as she whispered, "When you finally have what you've always wanted. All the power in the world at your fingertips, nations bowing down at your feet. They tremble just at the name: Gilbert Beilschmidt."_

_Gilbert moaned in the back of his throat. "Nat, you're turning me on."_

_"That doesn't answer my question."_

_"Ah fuck, I was kidding." His arm came around to rest on her shoulders, pulling her close as he cocked his head to flash her a grin. "I'll tell you what it's gonna be like, Princess. It's going to be Awesome."_

"ZIELEN!"

Panic shot through her, and with a surge of adrenaline she dug her boots into the mud, hurling herself away from the soldiers. Her braid swung over her shoulder and she felt hot tears well up in her eyes. "GILBERRRT!"

"FEUER!"

The woman fell silent.

Natalia watched as her body rolled to the side, softly, the only sound coming from the distant fighting in Minsk.

"Mama?" The boy stared at his mother with shimmering eyes. He tried to turn around, but the soldier grabbed him by the shoulders and forced him to face the other way. "Mama!" the boy cried, his lip trembling. He looked up at Natalia with big, brown eyes. "Help me!"

"ZIELEN!"

"STOP!"

At last the driver turned to her, his expression blank. Natalia refused to look him in the eye, her gaze fixed onto the ground.

"I… I agree to your terms."

"You will tell the SS where each Jew lives," the soldier clarified.

"Yes."

"And you will assist them in relocating the Jews to the ghetto."

"Yes."

"And you understand that any Jew you assist in escape will be shot on sight."

Natalia closed her eyes, her voice barely a whisper. "Yes."

"That is very wise of you, Miss Belarus. Shoot him."

Her eyes flew open just as the last gunshot rang out. She saw the blood spurt from the back of the wound, the little boy's face freezing in an expression of shock before his body crumpled into the grass.

Natalia stared. She could barely comprehend what she was seeing. Her legs went weak and she fell to her knees. "No…"

"Take her back to camp," the soldier ordered. Rough hands pulled her to her feet, and she stumbled as she was led back to the VW. She glanced back over her shoulder at the four bodies lying side by side. A dark pain twisted in her heart. Those were _her_ people. And she had been helpless to save them. Natalia stared out of the window, pressing a bloodied hand against the glass as the engine rattled to life and the dead family and smoking city began to shrink behind them.

She had been awaiting this invasion for twenty-three years. Twenty-three _years_ , and she could never have imagined anything as horrid and inhumane as what she had just witnessed.

_Gilbert… what have you done?_

* * *

HISTORY NOTES

The Axis powers invaded the Soviet Union on June 22, 1941. Soviet authorities immediately evacuated about 20% of the population of Belarus and destroyed all food supplies. The city of Minsk was captured on June 28 in a series of bloody encirclement battles, and by August all of the present-day Belarusian territory was occupied by the Nazis. Atrocities against the Jewish population began almost immediately, with the dispatch of Einsatzgruppen to follow up behind the Wehrmacht to commit mass murder. By the end of 1941 there were more than 50,000 troops devoted to rounding up and killing Jews. At the time of the invasion, an estimated 40% of the Minsk population were Jewish, as the city had been a historical and cultural hub for centuries. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations:  
> Führen Sie mich zu Gilbert Beilschmidt -Take me to Gilbert Beilschmidt.  
> Es ist eine Frau! - It's a woman!  
> WAS HAST DU GESAGT, DU SCHLAMPE?! - WHAT DID YOU SAY, YOU BITCH!?  
> Wo!? - Where!?  
> Ich kann nicht! Die Reifen... - I can't! The tires...  
> Was machst du da?! Verrückt schlampe! -What are you doing!? Crazy bitch!  
> ZIELEN! -AIM!  
> FEUER! -FIRE!
> 
> I want to make a note that the historical events in the next few chapters will be condensed for storytelling purposes. I will mention the accurate timeline of events in the history notes. Thank you for reading, and comments are much appreciated.


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